Two Mugs of Tea
by obaewan-kenobi
Summary: a short fic set after the events of 2x01 that isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows but the only way I would want it to happen


"Pathetic," Fitz said, setting down a mug of tea on the desk in front of Jemma. He took a sip from his own mug and went back to his own workspace.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking over at him.

"Before I left to go make tea, I started saying that my progress on the cloaking is… and I couldn't remember the rest. That's what I what I was going to say: Pathetic." He took another sip of his tea and got back to work. Jemma frowned. She got up and stood beside him.

"That's nonsense, Fitz. You're not pathetic. You suffered severe brain trauma only a few months ago. You're doing more than anyone could have asked for." She put her hand on his shoulder.

"You're trying," she reassured him. He put his hand on hers. Of all the people at The Playground with him, she was the only one who tried to make him feel better. Everyone else seemed to be growing impatient with him, and he was slightly hurt that they had stolen the quinjet rather than wait for him to finish the cloaking. Then again, he was growing impatient with himself. Fitz just took a bit longer to do things now, but he knew that as long as Jemma was there, he could push himself to do anything. His hard drive was just a bit shorted out.

"So," Jemma began, sitting back in her chair, putting her hands around her warm mug, "What progress have you made?" Fitz let out a huge sigh.

"Not enough. I think if I were to just… to just…" He couldn't find the words he needed.

"Rewire?" Jemma inserted. She always knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"Thank you," he said, glancing over at her, "Sorry. As I was saying, if I were to rewire this one bit, maybe I could… there could be a way to…" He faltered, slamming his work onto the table.

"Why am I even trying, Jemma? I'm supposed to be the tech guy, the one who can do almost anything with whatever I've got, that's me. But nothing's coming to me. Nothing. I don't think that Coulson thinks I can do anything anymore. You're the only one who believes in me. Even I don't believe in me these days." He looked over at her. She had her hair pulled back and wore a blue pullover over a white collared shirt. He didn't know why, but he liked it when she wore that. She smiled at him.

"May believes in you."

"May isn't the head of what's left of… of… oh bloody hell," He covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath. He heard someone walk in the door, knocking on the doorframe with an oh-so-familiar knock.

"Fitz," he heard Jemma say. He looked up at the door. It was Jemma, but it couldn't be. She had shorter hair, different clothes. How could it be her? It didn't make any sense. Jemma noticed the confusion in his face and was filled with a sense of panic.

"Fitz, it's me. It's Jemma," she said. He nodded slowly, acknowledging that he knew who she was. But he didn't understand. He was afraid to look behind him at where the other Jemma had been sitting. What was she? Was she still there? Could Jemma see her?

"I'm sorry that it's late, Fitz. Coulson told me that you were in here after my debriefing, and I had to come and apologize."

"Apologize? Jemma, I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Fitz, oh, Fitz. I'm so so sorry that I left you," she said, a few tears streaming down her face. She slowly approached him and hugged him. The hug lasted several silent minutes; save Jemma's faint sobs. When she finally let him go, she pulled the chair that other Jemma had been sitting on next to Fitz's chair. She noticed the full second mug of tea, but the rest of the lab deserted.

"Jemma, you were... you were… "

"I can't imagine what you've been through, Fitz. After you woke up, I diagnosed you with Anomic Aphasia. I tried to help you get better, I tried to help with anything I could, but honestly, Fitz, all those months ago, when I left, I was being selfish. I told myself it was because I wanted you to feel better, and that you couldn't do that if I was there. But that wasn't it. I felt horrible, like it was my fault you weren't yourself. I felt as if I was the cause of your difficulties. At times I wanted to think that you would have been happier if I hadn't taken you with me, that dying a hero's death would have been better than the frustration you were experiencing. And I hated myself for that. I spent Christmas with my parents, assuring them that the rest of my team was safe and they didn't have to worry about Hydra, but I couldn't sit still for long. I called Coulson, asked if there was anything I could do…"

She went on about where she had been, and suddenly that day he had been blocking out came back to him, the day that she said goodbye. He had been improving up until then. That night, he had cried silently in his bunk. It didn't happen right away, but soon it was like Jemma had never left, and he had forgotten that she had. He began to sob. Jemma stopped talking.

"Jemma, you were here. Now I know it wasn't you, but the whole time you were gone, I saw you. I guess it was some sort of coping mechanism, but I talked to you, you talked to me, I just assumed that you were… I forgot that you had…" He took a deep breath. She looked at the mug behind him and suddenly it made sense.

"I'm here now, Fitz. I'm so sorry. I'm here," she said, and hugged him again, both of them quietly sobbing.


End file.
